What if We Were Made to Kill Each Other?
by It's-A-Passion
Summary: When Pet's eyes landed on Cato, she glanced away dismissively. That was her first mistake. The next time, he sent a savage, taunting grin her way, and despite the fluttering's of fear in her gut, she squared her shoulders and lifted her chin defiantly. That was her second mistake. Then she fell for that harrowing smirk. That was her third mistake. She just didn't know it. Cato OC.
1. Splintered Heart

What if We Were Made to Kill Each Other?

Chapter One: Splintered Heart

Petronia always found it ironic that the one day of the year when she got to relax by herself for a few hours was also the most distressing day of the year. Reaping day.

Petronia, who preferred the shortened version of her name, Pet, was reclined back on the surprisingly soft, green grass. She tried to soak up as much of the warm rays from the mid-morning sun as she could. It coated her skin in a deliciously sleepy haze. Pet never got these single moments of peace. She never got the chance to just lay back and absorb the sunshine. The concept was almost entirely foreign to her.

Pet was the daughter of a harvester. Which made her a harvester too. Even if she wanted to be something else. Most days she spent walking in between the waves of light brown growing grain. District 9 supplied the grain to Panem. The weather in her district was ideal for growing it for longer. Pet spent many hours in the sweltering, harsh sun, harvesting and farming, and doing just about any job to earn enough money for her family. The result was her deep golden-brown skin, and adequately muscled thighs and biceps.

Those muscles protested when she wrenched herself to her feet. She started for home, slowly picking up the pace and running. She was pushing it if she wanted to be ready on time. Every year she was running behind and every year, she would stay too long just for those moments to herself. Because they could be her last. The possibility scared her beyond belief, coiling in her gut.

Because she could be reaped. And like every other child, she carried that fear around.

She was home in less than three minutes, slowing her steps when she opened the door to her family's simple abode. It was a shack, exactly like all the others beside it.

Pet's mother sat somberly on her old rocking chair, the weathered wood creaking under her shifting weight. She was looking out the window, face void; blank.

She was sick in her head. She spent days at a time in that rocking chair, seeming content not to move or speak. Oblivious to everything around her. Over the years, Pet had noticed she became more distant and forlorn on Reaping days. It made Pet wonder if, maybe, she knew more than she let on. Pet often wondered if she was hiding things away in her mind, or if it was as empty as her gaze. Sometimes she wondered if her mother even knew who she was.

Pet lived for her odd moments of clarity. Her lucid days, sometimes only hours long. She'd push open the front door after a late shift from one of her various jobs she took, and her mother's eyes would fill with a knowing light as she smiled sadly, saying, "You're such a good girl, Pet."

It was enough to add another fissure to Pet's heart, sure that one day, her heart would shatter and she'd be nothing anymore. Just like her mother. But as fleeting as those moments were, she clung to them as tightly as she could. They were a life raft in the middle of a storm.

Pet headed to the back of the shack where the room she shared with her sister was. Her mother looked up, locking onto her eyes. For a second, Pet was sure she was looking at her future self. She was almost an exact replicate. Glossy black hair, wide green eyes, a heart-shaped face with a small nose.

A desperately sad smile lifted her lips, marring her delicate features. Pet's mother was the most beautiful woman she'd ever seen. But she hated the painful emotion occupying her features right then. Pet shielded her mother from the world as best she could. She couldn't stand to see her distressed or in pain.

Pet walked over and placed a gentle kiss on the once-golden skin of her cheek. Her smile was still sad as she reached a hand up to the side of Pet's face, brushing at her loose hair, closing her eyes on a sigh.

"So pretty," she murmured. Her voice was so soft that if there had been a breeze, it would have blown her words away. She reopened her eyes and Pet noticed a glassy coating to them. She hurried down to her room. She couldn't handle seeing her mother cry. She couldn't handle tears.

In her room, Diana sat in front of their small mirror, twisting her hair around her finger and smiling vaguely, eyes distant. It cut at Pet, as sharp as a knife, right through her chest. Every time she saw that same, familiar, absent gaze on Diana's face, panic threatened to swallow her up, hitting her right in the chest like a load of bricks.

As soon as Pet walked in, she brightened up instantly, so bright it was a wonder she could stand so close to her without burning up. She was like the sun; bright, warm, constant.

"Pet!"

She was already dressed, waiting patiently and calmly, not bothering anyone. The buttons on her dress were crooked and not done up right, and her hair, which she always had difficulty with, was a frazzled mess. Pet went to her first, prying the twisted strands from her hands, running my fingers through it, combing it, before plaiting it and tying a ribbon around the end. Diana sighed contentedly.

Pet stared at the reflection. They looked different, and most people found it hard to believe they were sisters. Diana had brown-blonde hair, baby blue eyes and a distracted, not-completely-there smile. When their gazes met in the mirror, her smile became brilliant and Pet couldn't help but smile back. She was beautiful bundle of energy. She stood up and she was taller than Pet; she got her height and her features from their dad. Pet took after their mother. She reached up to fix Diana's buttons.

Diana was two years older than Pet, but in every other respect, Pet was the older sister. In body, Diana was eighteen, but in mind, she was much younger. Every day she slipped a little further away from Pet's reach. Like their mother. It scared Pet more than the prospect of being reaped ever could.

Pet loved her deeply; no one could meet Diana and not love her. She was sweet. Innocent. Far too lovely to be violent or cruel, to enjoy the sadistic show of the Hunger Games.

"Why don't you go sit with mama?" Pet asked softly, in the gentle tone she reserved for her.

Diana nodded benignly, and jumped up, dancing and twirling in her dress out to their mother. Pet's eyes threatened to fill and she blinked harshly. She pulled on her dress, the white material rough against her skin. The edges were lined with a small ribbon of white lace. The same lace wrapped around her waist, making it decidedly more feminine. It was the prettiest item she owned. It had been Diana's, but she'd grown out of it.

Diana needed medicine. Their mother needed medicine. But that cost money. Money they didn't have. Their district was one of the poorest, despite being surrounded by food. Everything they grew went straight to the Capitol. Women were afraid to be pregnant. Children ran in rags. Old men lived on the street with nothing to cover their heads when winter rolled around. People starved. And there was food _right there_.

They barely had enough food, let alone money. It was why Pet pulled double shifts, just like her father. So they could eventually save enough money to buy medicine. But it was so frustrating to watch their money not even seem to grow any. They worked hard, and it seemed to be for nothing.

Pet hated them for that. Not her mother and sister. Never in a million years would she be angry with them, never would she complain that they didn't work, never would she resent them for that. She hated the Capitol.

For taking her childhood away and making her work, to scrounge for money to survive.

For not knowing what it was like to fall asleep with absolutely no worries.

For killing twenty three children every year in the name of mercy.

For making them pay for the crimes of their ancestors.

But mostly, for making it _so hard_ to buy medicine.

Pet slipped on shoes, walking out of the room. Diana sat on the ground beside their mother, her head resting lightly against their mother's knees. Pet swallowed hard, reaching for Diana's hand. it was offered to her easily, her fingers threading with Pet's comfortably.

Their papa walked through the door just as they were to leave, his jaw clenched tight, his eyes tired.

"Papa!" Diana exclaimed, smiling her usual, exuberant smile that made everyone else smile.

"Diana, Pet," he said, his voice weary and tired and worried. Exactly the same as it always was.

"Do you like my dress?" Diana asked, twirling for him before grabbing Pet's hand again. She did that every year, though she wore the same dress and he'd seen it before.

"Beautiful," he smiled, before looking at Pet. "You too."

"Thanks," Pet said, her eyes dropping to the ground. "We need to go."

"We'll be there soon," he promised. Just as soon as he could coax their mother back to reality. He didn't say it, but then, he didn't need to. Pet knew.

.

.

.

The girls on either side of Pet shifted uncomfortably. Pet kept her eye on Diana. She didn't wander off though; she seemed to be happily speaking with a sick looking girl beside her.

Rye Fields, in her absurd Capitol dress, tapped on the microphone twice, before beaming down at the horrified crowd. Her lips were painted an unnatural shade of brown, stretching wide, a poor imitation of the brown of their grain. Pet couldn't pay attention to her opening speech or the film they showed each year about the Capitol's _mercy_, their _leniency_, their _kindness_. She closed her eyes, just wanting it to be over.

Then Rye reached into the ball that held all the slips with the girl's names, and Pet's ears snapped back into focus. Pet had a number of her own names in there. This was it. The moment every man, woman and child feared.

Rye smacked her lips together, "And this year's female tribute representing District Nine is… _Diana Ray_!"

Pet's heart stopped beating. Nobody moved. Nobody said anything.

Not Diana.

Blood drained from Pet's face. A hysterical, strangled gasp burst from her lips. No. No. _No_.

Pet was sure she was going to be sick.

Her mouth dropped and her heart went from stillness to a million beats a second as she glanced around frantically. Oh, God, not Diana. Anyone but her. She was too sweet. Too innocent. Too oblivious. Confused mutterings rose from the crowd and Pet looked around, searching for her papa. There were a few outcries of sending a mentally ill child into the games, but mostly people kept quiet. They didn't want their own daughter to be picked in her stead.

When she spotted her papa, he was holding her mama to him, their eyes wet. Mama was clawing at her temples, pulling at her hair as papa tried to get her to stop.

Diana couldn't go into the Games, because she'd never come back out. She just didn't understand. And even if, by some miracle, she made it out, she'd never be the same again. Everyone had heard of Annie Cresta. And Diana was crazy _before_ she went in. Someone as innocent as Diana couldn't go through something so violent and still be the same as before.

Desperate panic thumped in her chest as two peacekeepers stepped up, grabbing Diana and pulling her towards the platform. At first, she went happily. Then she got confused. The change was clear as she thrashed against the larger men, screaming for Pet, for her mama and papa. Tears streamed down her face.

The sound of her anguished cries was disturbing. Anyone who saw it would know she wasn't all there. That there was something missing.

It splintered Pet's heart, fractured it.

"Wait!" She shouted. She didn't remember walking out of her line, to the path down the middle of the audience. All she could see was Diana, and her panic, her confusion, her pain, and all she knew was that she had to make it stop. And only then did she realize what she was about to do.

Volunteering wasn't selfless. It wasn't compassionate. It was stupid. But Pet was going to do it anyway. All she had to do was look at Diana; her older sister, who she'd watched out for most of her life, who she protected fiercely, who she loved more than anything. There was no other option.

And Pet was okay with that. As long as they let Diana go.

Because she couldn't watch her older sister, away from her protection, die at the hands of another child. For sport. For entertainment. Pet was selfish like that. Instead, she would make her parents watch her die, and take away half their income all in one go. Papa would push himself to work more so he could feed them, and eventually his heart would give out. And mama and Diana would be alone.

Pet was faced with an impossible decision. But she had to choose what she could handle. And she couldn't handle watching Diana die and knowing she could have prevented it.

The crowd was silent, watching her. They gave her plenty of space, making sure they wouldn't be mistaken as the one calling for them to stop. Pet could feel the pressure of a thousand eyes on her. but the only eyes she cared about were Diana's.

"I volunteer."

Her shoulders were tense and her stomach roiled. But she ignored it, clenching her teeth. She had difficulty breathing and her eyes stung. Her hands shook and her heartbeat thundered in her ears.

"I volunteer." She repeated it. "I volunteer." It was urgent. She had to make sure they knew she was volunteering, that she was taking Diana's place. That Diana wouldn't be going into the games. And now, she never would. It was her last year.

Her fingers gripped the rough material of her dress. The peacekeepers let go of Diana who bolted to Pet, hugging her, pushing her wet face into Pet's shoulder. Pet squeezed her eyes shut, a tear leaking out against her will as she committed the feel of her sister's hugs to memory.

"Go to papa," she said so softly, it was barely audible. She did as Pet asked, and she straightened up. She walked for the platform, her feet stumbling on the steps. Her hands shook against her will.

"And what's your name?" Rye asked, her chirpy voice amplified through the microphone as she grinned.

"Petronia Ray." She swallowed, her mouth dry.

Rye clapped her hands together in absolute excitement, her wide grin seeming to widen. This woman would have smiled at Diana as she was offered up for slaughter. The thought made Pet so blindingly angry, her eyes flashing dangerously as she clenched her fists to hold them still Rye's smile dropped slightly.

"So… I bet that was your sister?"

Pet just stared at her.

"Right, well… a round of applause for this year's female tribute!" She grinned out at the crowd. Silence met her request, and Pet looked out at the sea of people. She couldn't see her mama or papa or sister.

"Well, onto our second tribute. And the lucky boy representing District Nine is… _Axel Grove_!"

The boy's side shifted to reveal the named boy. He made his way to the stage.

The first chill of fear shot down my spine. He was big. Much bigger than my smaller frame. His face was carefully blank, giving nothing away. Power and strength radiated from his bulk. My heart picked up speed. It knew it's time was limited, and it wanted to get as many beats in as it could.

Rue led the crowd in applause this time. "Shake hands you two."

Pet stared at Axel, sizing him up. His shoulders were at her eyes level and she had to crane her neck back to see his face. His eyes were a surprisingly warm brown. He offered his hand and she shook it. The barely contained strength in his grip was a promise that he could crush me with just one blow.

They were ushered into the Justice Building, into separate rooms.

A minute passed. Then two. The door swung open, and Diana burst into the room, mama and papa close behind. Diana flung her arms around Pet's neck, her body wracked with sobs. "I don't want you to go!"

"It'll be okay," Pet told her gently, smoothing her hand down her now free flowing hair. Pet hated to have to break a promise. Especially to Diana.

She pulled back, frowning like she knew I couldn't keep that promise. Papa took her place, enveloping Pet in his arms, crushing her to his chest. This was goodbye for good. He knew it and she knew it. they were two of a kind. "You have to come back."

Pet didn't reply, just letting her eyes slip closed, resting her head against his chest, reveling in the familiarity. Trying to imprint these moments to her memory. Because in the middle of the games, if she was unlucky as to live that long, those memories would be all she had. All that could get her through the terrible days and even worse nights. Pet held no false illusions about these games.

He pulled back, and Pet was tempted to pull him back into a hug, not quite ready to lose him yet. She turned to her mother, who was looking at her with a steady gaze. Much more steady than usual. Tentatively, she reached for Pet, her arms slipping around her.

"My baby," she whispered into her hair, suddenly holding tighter, her hands flying to her hair, smoothing it like she had just done to Diana. "Oh, my baby."

Tears sprung to her eyes, her voice cracking then threatening to close forever, "Mama."

She pulled away, her hands resting on the sides of Pet's face, forcing her to look her in the eyes. Pet's eyes looked back at her, like a mirror. Pet realized this would be a moment of clarity.

"You're coming back to me, my baby," she said firmly. Like it was the truth. Like, in her eyes, it was the only possible outcome. "We need you. Diana needs you, papa needs you. I _need_ you. You're coming back. Promise me. _Promise me_," her gentle voice took on a harsh edge, steel taking up residence like Pet had never heard before.

Pet looked at, surprised by her vehemence, the strength she was showing. No tears, no wails. No tearing at her hair and clothes, no clawing at her skin. Just absolute certainty. Her strength gave Pet strength as goose bumps prickled her skin.

"I promise," she said, eyes dry.

Determination swelled in Pet's chest. She had to come back. She had to.

An uncaring voice called through to them, "Time's up."

When no one moved, peacekeepers came in to physically remove them. "No!" Diana wailed, hugging Pet, holding tight. "No! Pet!"

A peacekeepers began to extricate her from Pet. "Be careful with her," Pet growled.

"Let go," he commanded Diana.

"Go," I said. "And be good for mama and papa."

"Pet!" She wailed as the peacekeepers hauled her away, her arms flying about as she struggled. Papa came to help, trying to sooth her and he led her out the door. Mama stood there in the entrance, face calm, watching Pet.

"You're stronger than you think, Petronia Ray. Remember your promise."

And then she was gone. They were all gone and Pet was alone.

**So, what did you think?**

**This is actually a re-written version of my original story by the same title. I still didn't like it, so I re-wrote it again.**

**Thanks so much for reading this for me!**


	2. Fearful Heart

What if We Were Made to Kill Each Other?

Chapter Two: Fearful Heart

Pet sat awkwardly next to Axel. She didn't meet his eyes. She wouldn't look at him. She couldn't form any words. She brought her knees up, wrapping her arms around them and resting her chin on top. Her hands still shook, and she couldn't get it to stop. It was a show of vulnerability, she knew, but she just needed something to hold onto. And Axel was out of the question.

She watched the world fly as she glanced out the window. The Capitol train was… well, luxurious was an understatement. It was overwhelming. Dizzying.

But at least it was a distraction from her mental turmoil. Because one thought kept running through her mind that she wished would stop. _You're going to die_. _You're going to die. You're going to die. _Over and over again, it went around, like some sick, twisted form of intimidation.

Their mentors walked into the room.

District Nine had only two victors; Oak and Julius. Julius was an aged man, perhaps in his mid-sixties, with a shock of grey-white hair that stood out against his deeply tanned, lined skin. Despite his apparent age, his brown eyes twinkled with mischief. Oak, in comparison, was closer to her late twenties, with short, curling blonde hair. Her skin was also tanned. Big surprise. Everyone in their district had tanned skin; it's what happened when they spent most of the day out in the sun.

The sight of them might have given anyone else hope; after all, they won – they made it through their games. People from District Nine could win. Instead, it only made Pet feel worse, and her mantra kicked back up again.

_You're going to die._

Because, really, how was she supposed to win? Julius still held onto the bulk he obviously had when he was younger; the muscle, the strength and size, the broad shoulders and big hands, just like Axel. And Oak, while not physically big, was tall, with long, muscled legs that were clearly designed for running, and running fast. They had physical advantages. Pet had neither. Their presence only served to point that out, as if to say, there's nothing we can do to save you.

Pet realized her mother was wrong; she wasn't stronger than she thought. And she'd made a promise she was never going to be able to keep.

When Julius offered Pet his hand, she mentally scolded herself for her display of vulnerability, pulling herself together.

_Show a little mettle. Strength. Determination, even! Just stop curling up into a ball and being pathetic._

She stood up and shook his hand. She wasn't some little girl. Yes, she was scared, but that didn't mean she should show it. She wanted her mentors, her only chance at surviving even a little, to know that she was worth trying to help, that their efforts wouldn't be wasted.

"I'm Julius," he introduced.

"I know."

A hint of a smile lifted his lips. "And you're Petronia."

"Obviously. But I prefer Pet."

There. That wasn't so hard. She could be strong. She was strong every day. For her father, and mother and sister. They needed someone to be strong for them. Her father needed someone he could rely on to help him earn money. Her mother needed someone to look after him when he worked too hard. Her sister needed someone to protect her from everything that could hurt her gentle spirit. So Pet was what she had to be, what they needed her to be. And right now, they needed her to be strong.

She shook hands with Oak then, trying not to feel intimidated by the older woman.

They sat down. Julius began to speak, and Pet swallowed. "So, what we want to do first is give you an image."

"Image?" Pet squeaked, before clearing her throat. This was just getting ridiculous. She had no control over her body, which seemed hell-bent on betraying her. "I mean… What kind of image?"

She really had to get a grip.

"We need something to sell to the sponsors. Something that'll make them want you to win," Oak explained. "Everyone underestimates how important sponsors are until they get here."

"How?" Axel asked. It was the first thing Pet had heard him say. His voice was deep and kind of echoing. In the chair beside Pet, his tense shoulders were at her eye level, and his chestnut brown hair was cut short, close to his head. "How important are they?" Like he was wondering how hard he was going to have to work at this image thing.

"Let's just say… when there's something you need that could mean the difference between living and dying, how do you think you're going to get it?"

"Through the sponsors. Which is why you need an image," Julius nodded. "We need an image that plays to your strengths. So, let's start with your skills."

Pet didn't think she had any skills. Unless being good with mentally ill people counted. But that wasn't something that was going to save her. She didn't have anything that would save her.

She wanted to slap herself. Yes, she was going to die. But she didn't want to be one of the ones who just let it happen, who didn't help themselves because they thought it was pointless. She didn't want her family to see that. And damnit, she didn't want to die like that.

She was stronger than that. She was tough; she'd been working two jobs for most of her life, she'd constantly worked on little to no sleep. She could calm down an irrational, extremely upset Diana. Diana was the sweetest person in the world, but when she was upset, it was frightening. Because she wasn't rational, so logical arguments were useless. Reason didn't work with her. People were afraid of what they couldn't reason with. It made them uncomfortable. It made them mean.

She'd ignored the whispers about how Diana was weird. A freak. Retarded. How Pet was related to them, how she had a retarded mother and sister. How she could have children like them, because it seemed to run in the family. And she'd taken that in her stride. She'd never let any of it stop her.

She became what she had to be.

"Okay…" Julius said slowly. He didn't sound surprised by their lack of answer. "Well, let's start with the obvious; scythes."

It hit Pet then. She could handle a scythe – and that was a weapon. Everyone in District Nine could handle a scythe like it was an extension of their arm. She wasn't entirely helpless. But then her feeling of elation died. How was she supposed to _get_ a scythe? All the weapons were kept close to the cornucopia, and she'd never survive past the initial bloodbath if she tried to get to one.

Axel shrugged, "Strength."

"That's an advantage," Oak agreed, before her eyes dropped to Pet. "But smaller have come out alive."

Because this wasn't about winning. It was about coming out alive. There was a difference.

"True," Julius said, not looking at Pet. "What else?"

They were silent again. Pet tried thinking about her skills. But if she had any, she didn't know about it.

"Nothing?" Julius frowned. "Come on." He turned his attention to Pet. "What about something for you? Are you fast?"

Pet pressed her lips together, "As fast as everyone else." She was too short to be fast.

"What about the bow and arrows?"

"What about them?" Pet sighed.

"Swords?"

This was just so ridiculous. Obviously, in their district, no one has the chance to practice with those. No one had money to buy any to practice with. They weren't District 2. They were the grain district, and the only time grain hurt anyone was when it flicked up into their eye.

"Oh, yeah," She snapped, growing irritated. Couldn't he take the hint? She didn't have any skills. All he was doing was pointing that out to everyone. "We practice with them all the time at my house."

His lips pressed together in a line. She could see in his eyes that he was running out of ideas. "Don't worry. We'll think of something."

Yeah. Right. Pet knew she was already half-way to dead.

"Why don't you get some rest before the Reaping's rehash tonight?" Oak suggested, and Pet nodded, standing up and heading for the door Oak pointed at.

Pet felt exhausted. Mentally and physically, though she hadn't even done much, and it wasn't long past midday. Most years, the tributes from her district were some poor, half-starved kid, half-way to dead. It was hardly fair to send them in, up against kids who had had enough to eat their whole life and who had been training to kill since they were old enough to hold a weapon.

Pet's room was just across from Axel's, and she pushed the door open, trying to be as silent as possible.

"Petronia," Axel's echo-like voice made her turn around in a jump of surprise. Her heart hammered away, and she pressed her lips together, irritated at her response. No, she hadn't been expecting Axel to say anything to her, but that didn't mean she had to react like he'd shoved her in the arm.

She coughed, "I prefer Pet."

He nodded, but Pet got the feeling it was a standard response, whatever was on his mind was taking up a lot of room. His jaw twitched, like he was considering whether or not he should say whatever it was he wanted to say. Pet's head tilted to the side as she considered him, taking him in.

And then her stomach dropped. He was about to say he wanted her to stay away from him. He didn't want the other tributes associating him with her. He'd found out she had no skills whatsoever, and he didn't want her thinking she could tag along with him and ruin his chances of survival. She bit her lip, trying not to feel offended and hurt.

But it did hurt, if only a little. If she couldn't trust her district partner, who could she trust? And she needed someone to trust. His eyes took her in, suddenly changing, throwing them in an analytical light, like he was assessing her. Searching for something in her face. He must have found it, because he opened his mouth. "I don't want to have to kill you in the arena."

Pet jerked back like she'd been slapped. Because she heard the implications of his words; that he would. He could. He just didn't want the guilt of killing someone from his own district hanging over him. Her heart kicked back up. It was beating like it knew it had a limit. Her hands clenched, and she lifted her chin defiantly.

"And I don't want to have to kill you either," She replied. She knew it meant little, coming from her. In a fight, she wouldn't win. But that was beside the point. If it came to a fight, she wasn't going to just roll over. No. She was going to try her hardest to win. She had to.

He nodded. And it wasn't sarcastic, or placating. He wasn't making a face, like 'oh, _sure_ you can kill me'. He wasn't laughing. He was watching her steadily, taking her completely seriously. Like he knew she would fight hard. And he respected it, and understood it.

An unspoken understanding passed through them. They would not fight or attack each other in the arena. If they stumbled upon each other, they'd just go their separate ways and be done with it. They wouldn't risk their lives for each other, but they certainly wouldn't try to kill each other.

Pet turned away from him and walked into her room. She had one less enemy, and it felt surprisingly good. The room, while small, was hardly simple. It was as luxurious as the rest of the train.

A gnawing, twisting feeling in her gut started up. When she sat down on the edge of her bed, it got worse. It felt wrong to lie on the bed. It felt wrong to accept what was happening to her. She was a scapegoat for the Capitol, and she didn't like being used. She didn't like that the luxury, the food, the way they lived in the days before the games, was all a bribe. She didn't want to accept it. She wanted to return it. She wanted to go home. None of this was fair.

_You're going to die._

Pet hadn't cried in years. She was tougher than that. But right now, she wanted to. She could feel it creeping up on her, stinging her eyes. She blinked harshly. She wouldn't cry. Partly because she was afraid that if she started, she wouldn't stop. And partly because if she let herself cry, it wasn't exactly coming to terms with her new reality. It meant she was holding onto the past.

She slipped off the bed, onto the carpet, and she frowned. The carpet was nearly as soft as her bed back home, in District Nine. And for a moment, it offered a sense of familiarity. She curled up, still on the floor, and closed her eyes. Like this, she could pretend she was at home. She could pretend she hadn't been reaped. She could pretend she wasn't going to die very, very soon.

She drifted into an uneasy sleep.

…

Something hard prodded Pet in the ribs. She frowned, grumbling, and turning over.

Another prod came to meet the other side of her ribs.

She jerked upright, remembering in a rush where she was. What was happening.

Julius stood in her room, and she realized it was his boot that had been nudging her. Pet felt far from properly rested, and she pulled herself up, rubbing at her eyes and looking expectantly at her mentor. "Reapings will be on soon," he told her.

He frowned at the ground where she'd been sleeping. His lips pressed tight, and he turned towards her door, pausing. He looked back at her, "You're not a lesser person if you sleep on the bed."

Pet didn't want to talk about it. Didn't really want to explain that the ground felt more like home than anything else right then. Or that she didn't like accepting bribery from the Capitol, especially considering they were the ones killing her in a show of blood and brutality. Then her eyes widened slightly in sudden realization.

It was going to hurt. Dying in the games. Nobody liked it when it was clean and quick. It was going to hurt. Pet swallowed, her mouth dry. She looked up at Julius. "I'll be out for the Reapings."

He took the hint and went with it, nodding and leaving her alone.

She made herself shove aside her thoughts as she walked out to where the large TV sat, surrounded by large, soft chairs. She sat down next to Axel. Not too close, like she was trying to form a bond, a connection, a friendship with him, but not so far that it was like she was ignoring him. The screen flickered to life, and Pet blinked her sore eyes.

There was a lot of talk and commentary at the beginning, and Pet slipped back into her dark musings, tuning it out. She wanted as little to do with the games as possible.

_You're going to die._

_Shut up!_ She snarled at herself. She knew it. But she didn't need to be constantly reminded of it. It made her lose focus, made her panic, made her heart pound painfully fast and made her want to throw up.

Pet glanced at the screen to realize the actual Reapings had already started. A boy, tall and confident, stood on the stage of District One, as another girl, beautiful and willowy, flounced her way up to the stage, almost shimmying. Marvel and Glimmer. The boy was an obvious threat, and the girl was yet to be determined.

A small, scrawny girl with raven dark hair volunteered in District Two. She was young, but her smile sent a shiver up Pet's spine. She bared her teeth to the crowd, announcing her volunteering as soon as the escort announced a different name. Clove. She scared Pet, even though she was younger than her. There was something about the sadistic grin she carried around that made her afraid.

But it was the boy who made her heart miss a beat. The escort didn't even get a chance to announce the chosen boy before a loud, confident, self-possessed, almost lazy 'I volunteer' came from the crowd. It shifted, to let the male saunter up, completely at ease, to the stage. Tall. Gorgeous. Big. He gave Axel some competition in the strength department. Coiled tight with muscle and radiating a deadly air; his body was as dangerous as any weapon and judging from his smirk, it was clear he wouldn't have any qualms with taking a life. Cato. He was so, obviously, a career. Trained to enter the games, kill, then exit as a victor.

Pet sank down further in the soft chair. She had gotten herself into so much trouble.

Both tributes from District Three were young. Just kids. Terror shined in their eyes and Pet had to close her own eyes so as not to see anymore. A horrible thought struck her.

She was going to have to kill in these games. To come home, she had to, at least once. But Pet knew without a doubt she couldn't. She hadn't been trained to kill since she was little. She couldn't fathom it. Couldn't take away someone else's daughter or son, brother or sister. It wasn't something she could live with. Ever.

Pet didn't want to play the Capitol's game. She couldn't let them make her into something she wasn't. A killer. Ruthless.

And yet she couldn't stop other people from killing those she refused to. What was worse? Doing it herself, or doing nothing and letting it happen? They were just as bad as each other.

When Pet opened her eyes again, they were up to District Seven. Their faces, their names, blurred past. Her mind recognized them as either a threat, or as another kid like her. But she didn't see any other serious threats. Not like District Two's tributes.

And then it came to her own Reaping. She winced, when Diana started screaming for her, her fear palpable as she struggled against the Peacekeepers. Her disturbing wails pierced the silent air. And then Pet saw herself there, volunteering.

Then she saw Axel. And next to him, she looked dainty and weak. She was no threat. And the next district came on the screen.

District Eleven had a tiny, twelve year old girl as a tribute, and a massive male, bigger than Axel and Cato. District Twelve was last, and for the first time, they had a volunteer. The coal mining district rarely saw any volunteers. The poor districts, the ones who didn't have kids training to kill, were the ones who didn't have any volunteers usually.

The girl who volunteered gave Pet pause. Katniss. She was most definitely a threat. Because choosing to volunteer to save someone else made it different; you were willingly putting yourself into the horrors of the games, in full possession of your bodily functions. She chose this. She chose to save the person she loved. And that made her so much more dangerous than if she had been called instead of her sister. Katniss didn't give anything away at all. Stoic and calm. Steady hands and voice.

Pet was in so much trouble.

The male looked as scared as Pet felt.

**So, what did you think?**

**Let me know!**

**Also, I do replies to reviews at the end of the next chapter, so here we go with the replies to reviews for chapter 1;**

**Teddy bear 007: **Hey, thanks so much for reviewing! I noticed you also reviewed some of my other stories, too, so thanks so much for that! It's really nice of you! Anyway, I'm glad you liked the first chapter and seem to want to read more. Hopefully, you liked this chapter too! Though, it was a little slow… Thanks so much, again!

**Fangirlingeverysecond: **Haha, thank you! I'm so stoked you thought the first chapter was amazing! And that you are in love with it . Haha, thank you! I hope you liked this chapter just as much!

**Itsthatcrazygirl13: **Thank you so much! I'm so glad you seem to like it so far and are interested in reading more! I hope you liked this chapter! Thanks so much for taking the time to review this story for me! It means a lot!

**Nathapril: **Aw, thank you! I'm so happy that I wrote it in just a way to make it so that you couldn't help but love it :D Thanks so much for taking the time to review this for me! I really hope you liked the second chapter too, though I do think this one's a little slow.

**Marceasdf: **Thank you so much! I'm so glad you liked it! I would definitely like to continue this, so for now I won't be leaving it there! I'm really stoked you seem to want to read more! I hope you liked this chapter then! And thanks so much for reviewing this for me! It means so much to me! Thank you!

**WMaldonado89: **Hi! Thanks so much for taking the time to review this for me! I agree that it was a little on the slow side; it took a while to get through the scene. But, I hope you liked this chapter. Though, I actually think this chapter was slower. I plan to pick up the pace really soon, so sorry if it bugs you! Again, thanks so much for reviewing!

**MeandPizzatheOTP: **Haha, thanks so much for leaving a really nice, encouraging review like that! I'm so stoked you seem to want to read more, so I hope you liked this chapter then! Thanks so much for taking the time to review for me!

**Hoove-print-on-your-heart: **Hi! Thanks so much for taking the time to review! It means so much to me, and it's especially nice when such a nice one is left for me! So, thank you! I'm really glad you're excited to read the rest of the story! Thanks so much! :D


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